Night of the Hunter
by Sir Thopas
Summary: Tigatron chased his prey through the jungle, wondering which side of him was the real killer: the animal or the robot. Part of the "Corsicon" series.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note – Next part in the "Corsicon" series. Like all of the stories in this series, _Night of the Hunter_ can be read independently. You don't need to read the others to get this story.

**Night of the Hunter**

_Chapter 1_

Tigatron moved silently through the jungle. He knew that his prey was close. He could smell the stench of fear clinging to the wet ground with every deep cycle of hot, muggy air that he vented. The scent was confused, scattered; there was nowhere left for it to run. The chase was almost over. Tigatron tensed when he heard the snap of a twig break beneath one massive paw. He waited for the birds to shriek and the monkeys to scatter, signaling his position to his prey. But there was… nothing. For the first time Tigatron noticed how oppressive the silence was. It was a dead world, completely lifeless except for himself, his prey and the ever-watchful trees that pressed in on him. Tigatron drew back in bewildered fear. He didn't recognize this place. These flowers, these trees… the colors were all wrong. The entire jungle was completely alien to him. Was he even on the same planet? And… what was he hunting? Tigatron felt the hair on his beast mode rise on end when he heard a low, mocking chuckle echo through the jungle.

Tigatron's optics flickered on, the laughter still resonating in his audios. Only it was softer. Sweeter. He looked up to see Airazor bending over him, her servos braced against her knee joints. He was in his cave in the arctic tundra, not lost in some Primus-forsaken jungle; there was no reason for him to still be feeling anxious. It was just a dream. She laughed again as he groaned and stretched, kneading the dirt floor with his huge paws. "That must have been some dream," she commented. "You were kicking out your feet and growling. It was the most _adorable_ thing I've ever seen. I can't wait to tell the other Maximals."

Tigatron took a playful swipe at her legs, watching as she easily danced away. "Seriously though," she pressed as she came to sit on a rocky outcropping. "What were you dreaming about? You looked like you were chasing something."

"It was more than that," he admitted with a shake of his head. "I was _hunting_. What it was I do not know. Or at least, I don't remember what it was. I was trapped in some place strange and alien, somewhere I'd never been before."

Airazor leaned forward, her optics wide. "Do you think maybe it was a memory? When I recharge I sometimes see glimpses of Cybertron. Or, well, I assume it is Cybertron anyway."

"Wherever it was, it certainly wasn't Cybertron." Tigatron sighed. "I think perhaps you're reading too much into it. It was just a dream. It didn't mean anything."

Airazor folded her arms and looked out through the mouth of the cave to watch the snow fall. "It just gets a little frustrating sometimes," she admitted. "Don't get me wrong. I love this planet. It's my home. But… sometimes I'll just get this sense of déjà vu and then there is a face, someone's name, a smell… _something_ that just appears in my processor and I'll have no idea what it means. I feel like I'm missing something important, something that made me the bot that I am." She finally turned to look at him. "I think… I think I might have loved someone on Cybertron and… it scares me, to be honest. This bot… whoever he was… is like a ghost hanging over my head. I don't want the past to ruin my present."

Tigatron knew that she was referring to him when she spoke of the present. There had been this connection between the two of them for so long; a small spark that had grown steadily into a white-hot blaze. He had done nothing about it however, despite the fact that she had made her intentions clear. He wanted to though, desperately, but there was always something that held him back. He knew what he was _supposed_ to do, how to show her his love like the bot he was. But it didn't seem natural to him; he felt more like an organic than a robot. What he really wanted was to call out to her in the way tigers did when attracting mates, but she wouldn't understand. That duality – robot and animal – was always there, tugging him in opposite directions. There were still times when he found himself in battle and looked down in surprise to see mech fluid instead of real organic blood.

Airazor shrugged her shoulders and stood up. "I suppose in the end it doesn't matter. Rhinox told me that the damage to our memory banks was too extensive. Apparently the banks are the most delicate part of the stasis pods and when the Axalon was hit-" Airazor made a booming gesture with her servos. "They were the first things to fry. We'll probably never get those memories back."

"I'm sorry," he said.

She laughed. "No, you're not. You don't care if you ever remember."

He didn't say anything. It was true after all.

"I've got to check in with Optimus," Airazor said as she shifted into beast mode. When her body had adjusted she looked up at him from where she perched on the ground, peering at him with those intense falcon eyes. It was like she was trying to see right through him. If anyone could, it would be Airazor. "Why don't you come with me? Cheetor will be happy that you visited."

For a moment he hesitated. He wanted to, but… "I need to patrol Sector 40," he heard himself say. Why could he never let himself give in? "I haven't been there in two days."

Airazor sighed and mumbled out, "Suit yourself." She took off, flying out of the cave and disappearing into the gray sky. Tigatron watched her go for a moment before dropping his face into a paw and shaking his head. He needed to get over this or he would eventually push her away completely. Tigatron straightened up and began to make his way to Sector 40. He might as well go ahead and patrol the area, Optimus would be expecting him to anyway once Airazor reported back to him.

Sector 40 was a long trek out of the arctic, deep into the jungle that bordered the Predacon base. He knew this place well; it was here that the Maximals lost themselves to their animal programming and where Tigatron had taught them to calm and soothe the raging beasts. But the familiarity did nothing to comfort him now. The jungle reminded him too much of his dream, despite the fact that the two looked nothing alike. This was a land teeming with life, unlike the barren jungle of his dream. The chirping and chattering and roaring of animals comforted him. This was where he belonged, in the wild as an animal. Tigatron let his animal side take over and lost himself in his instincts.

He didn't know how long he had been walking when he suddenly realized that the birds had stopped chirping. That could mean only one thing: danger was nearby. Tigatron shivered at the way the heavy, wet air clung to his fur and kept his optics and audios peeled for any signs of Predacon activity.

There was an explosion right by his feet and with a roar Tigatron transformed. He hadn't even finished adjusting to his robot body before a barrage of bullets and laser blasts flew at him. He leapt to the side, rolling behind a tree while pulling out his own blaster from his subspace pocket. His face scrapped against the rough bark as he turned to peek at his opponent, his blaster drawn and ready. Tigatron nearly dropped his gun at what he saw, he couldn't believe it. He had been expecting Terrorsaur or Waspinator – perhaps even one of the spiders – but certainly not… _this_.

The bot was perched in a tree and grinning like a loon, with a Predacon insignia blazed across his chassis. Tigatron didn't recognize him and he wildly wondered if another stasis pod had crashed; had the Predacons captured it before the Maximals could get to it? But that didn't explain why he looked like _that_. The Predacon was Cybertronian, _pure_ Cybertronian. He didn't have a beast mode and looked like he transformed into some sort of jet. But it wasn't _possible_. The energon on this planet would have fried him without an organic alt mode to act as a protective cover.

"Hey there, Killer," The Predacon called out as he lifted his gun. He pretended to shoot it at Tigatron, laughing when the Maximal flinched back. "Bang. You're dead."

Tigatron jerked his head back around the tree and readied himself. It didn't matter if the bot had a beast mode or not. Right now was not the time to wonder these things. He needed to take him out; he could find out why later. With a roar Tigatron leapt out from behind his cover and ready to knock the Pred onto his aft, only to find that the bot was gone. Tigatron let his arms drop, mystified at where the Predacon could have disappeared to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Night of the Hunter**

_Chapter 2_

"The scanners haven't picked up any pods or ships in the past lunar cycle," Rhinox stated as he examined the computer's logs. He turned back to Tigatron with a frustrated sigh. "Are you sure of what you saw? I just don't understand how it could be possible. A bot would fry within half an hour without a beast mode out there."

Tigatron stiffened at the implication. He could see the other Maximals shift and glance at each other from the corner of his optics, wondering silently to themselves if the bot had even been real to begin with. Except for Airazor; her gaze never wavered from his own. "I'm positive," he insisted. "The mech shot at me. I did not _imagine_ that. Believe me, the danger was real."

Optimus held out a servo in an attempt to mollify him "Stand down, Tigatron, we believe you."

Rattrap snorted and rolled his optics. "Oh, well, in that case, let me just slip right outside for a few hours without going into beast mode. I'm sure I'll be just fine. After all, this mystery mech can handle it no problem."

A low, grumbling chuckle escaped from Dinobot's mouth at that. It surprised Tigatron; Dinobot hardly ever reacted to Rattrap's quips with anything other than violence and sarcasm. But then, Tigatron was not usually the target of Rattrap's jokes. Dinobot and he held a grudging respect for one another, based solely on the fact that they recognized each other's usefulness in winning this war, but just because they respected each other's skills did not mean they liked each other personally. Especially after what had happened with Snowstalker. Dinobot was too often exasperated by his so-called "sentimentality", while Tigatron was disgusted by the former Predacon's disregard for this planet and its creatures. To him, the death of an innocent was simply another casualty, unimportant and forgotten. For that, Tigatron could never truly call the other bot a friend.

Optimus, however, was less than amused and shot the pair of them a stern glare. "Regardless of what anyone here may think, it is important that we remain on top of any new information. If there is a new Predacon then that means Megatron has added another soldier to his ranks, one that possesses some sort of shield to protect him from energon overloads. And if that is the case then we are in very, _very_ big trouble, something which I don't find particularly amusing." He turned his optics on to each and every one of them. "Well? How about the rest of you? Any more funny comments you would like to add? Rattrap?"

"Eh, no thanks. I'm good," he muttered.

Optimus nodded his head and placed his servos on his hip joints. "Good. We're going to split into two teams and do a sweep, try to find out any information we can on this new Predacon. Rhinox will stay here and guard the base. Rattrap, Cheetor, and I will start in Sector 20. Tigatron, I want you to take Airazor and Dinobot back to where you first saw this mech. Do a sweep of the entire jungle, then begin to head towards our position and we'll meet in the middle."

Dinobot refrained from saying anything out loud but it was clear to everyone that he thought this was a waste of time. He shoved past Tigatron, swinging out his powerful, whipcord tail behind him like it was his sword. Airazor rolled her optics at the mech before shooting Tigatron a wry smile in exasperated companionship as she followed him out. Tigatron found himself unable to share in her amusement; he scowled at Dinobot's back but managed to keep his mouth shut, despite such blatant disrespect. The velociraptor would only see it as a challenge and start a fight; Tigatron would not engage in such a needless battle. He refused to find any glory in such violence. Still there was a part of his brain – _processor_ – that coldly, mechanically took note of Dinobot's weaknesses. It catalogued them, filing them away for a future conflict that Tigatron never wanted to find himself in.

With a soft sigh Tigatron trailed after the two. He didn't know whether he wanted to be proven right after being doubted by the Maximals, or wrong and safe in the knowledge that Megatron did not have access to any new soldiers or technology. Either way it would be bad for him; if he's right then the Maximals were at a clear disadvantage, but if he was wrong then that meant there was something wrong with _him_.

* * *

Tigatron could almost see the rage beginning to bubble up underneath the organic skin of Dinobot's beast mode. They had been searching for cycles for any sign of this new, mysterious Predacon, but so far they had found nothing. Tigatron stole a glance up at the sky, where he could see small glimpses of Airazor's soft brown feathers through the trees, hoping she would swoop down low for a moment and join them or call to him over the link. He would much rather have her company than Dinobot's.

"Dinobot, report."

Tigatron came to a stop as Optimus's voice filtered through the link. "There is _nothing here_!" Dinobot hissed out. "There is no evidence that this _supposed_ assailant had ever existed. He is not living alone in the wilds and he has not joined forces with Megatron. If he had then Megatron would have surely pressed his advantage already and attacked!" Dinobot shifted those reptilian eyes to stare at him, shooting him a devious grin. "I suggest Tigatron be subjected to a full-body scan," he said. "There is clearly something broken inside his processor."

Tigatron growled, baring his teeth at the velociraptor who hissed right back at him. He could hear the wind running through fine feathers and the screeching of gears grinding together as Airazor shifted into robot mode beside him. He ignored her, his attention focused solely on the former Predacon in front of him. He wanted to be peaceful, he wanted to live up to the memory of Snowstalker, but he refused to take this disrespect any longer.

"Any comments about Tigatron's capabilities will not be tolerated, is that understood Dinobot?" With the sound of Optimus's voice Dinobot immediately pulled back, his features arranging themselves into something more Cybertronian than animal.

"Yes," he growled out, unhappy but obedient to the chain of command.

"Good. I want you all back at the base. That includes Tigatron and Airazor, as well. Optimus out."

Dinobot turned around and began the long trek back to the base, not bothering to spare a glance behind him for his two comrades. With a sigh, Tigatron transformed and stood next to the femme, waiting for her to speak. He could see that there was something on her mind. She looked up at him and gave him a sad sort of smile that Tigatron assumed was meant to be comforting. As if anything could make him feel better after having just realized he hallucinated a battle and hadn't even realize it. "Dinobot shouldn't have mocked you like that," Airazor insisted. "But if he's right… if something _is_ wrong… it's nothing to be ashamed of, okay? It's not something you could have helped. No one blames you if you get injured in battle and they won't blame you for something like this."

She reached out with a servo to cup his cheek, but Tigatron pulled back. He didn't want to feel cold metal, he wanted warm flesh.

Airazor was just as much of a warrior as Dinobot was, and this time she didn't retreat. She stood her ground and leveled Tigatron with a hard gaze. "You like me," she said. She wasn't asking because there was no question. They both knew he liked her.

"Yes."

"Then why do you always pull away from me like this?" She sounded confused and angry, but underneath it all she sounded _hurt_.

How could he explain it to her? She had never had any trouble fitting in with the rest of the Maximals, despite her missing memories. "I told Optimus that I felt more tiger than robot and ever since Snowstalker's death…" He trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts and convey them in a way she would understand. "I don't know how to be a mech, or even if I really want to. There are times when my thoughts are more Cybertronian than animal and it worries me. Underneath my conscious thoughts I can feel myself running military programs and the endless cycles of binary code looping through my processor, and it feels cold and lifeless. I don't like it, I'd rather think like an animal, have the insticts of an animal. I'm just not sure I can be the kind of mech you want."

Airazor stared at him, seeing through into his very spark with those green optics that shined up at him. Suddenly she reached out with a servo, too quickly for Tigatron to react, and grasped his chassis. She pulled him down and kissed him. Tigatron could feel the sparks of electricity pass through their lips the moment they touched. This was not the way tigers mated, but he found he didn't dislike it. He had imagined that kissing and interfacing would be cold and mechanical, lacking the passion that the animals had. It _was_ cold, metal was always cold, but there was passion in there too. He felt the way she pushed against him, _conquering_ him, and the way she smelled, like oil and wind.

She pulled away from him then and grinned. "See? Not so scary."

Tigatron could only nod, still a little dazed. Airazor laughed and transformed, calling out, "Oh, and Tigatron? Everything you just said? That is exactly the reason why you are the only mech I want." She turned away then, heading off towards the base. Tigatron lingered for only a moment before following after her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Night of the Hunter**

_Chapter 3_

"Just relax," came the deep, soothing rumble of Rhinox's voice. Tigatron tried to do as he commanded as the light from the scanner moved across his body. The roving machines pressed in too tightly, setting him on edge. He wanted to break free, to escape and just run across the wide, open spaces - _Run, run, run!_- but he remained still. Airazor was right. If there was something wrong it was better to know. "Hm," Rhinox hummed as he looked over the readings. "There doesn't appear to be anything out of the ordinary. Damaged memory banks, but that's to be expected. The same is true for Airazor, and presumably for Blackarachnia and Inferno, though I doubt we'll ever know for sure with them. The only difference is that your onboard computer appears to have made some repairs, though only partially completed. Most of the neural transmitters in that section of your CPU have been fixed and it looks like some attempt was made on the memory banks themselves before your onboard computer system diagnosed the damage to be too extensive and stopped all efforts."

"What does that mean for me?" Tigatron asked.

"I'm not sure," Rhinox replied with a shrug. "I wouldn't think it would have any effect on you, but my specialty isn't processors so I don't know for sure. I would like to link into your memory bank, however, just to make sure this isn't the cause of the hallucination."

"It still has yet to be determined if it was a hallucination," Tigatron reminded him stiffly.

Rhinox didn't say anything to that, his optics quickly darting back down to look at the readout. "The scanner is going to link up with your processor through the port at the base of your head. Don't worry; you won't feel a thing."

Tigatron forced the tightly coiled springs in his body to relax and let this-

_Run!_

"Is everything alright?" Rhinox asked, running his optics across the other bot's strained features. "This isn't supposed to be uncomfortable."

"I'm fine," he growled out. "I do not actually feel any physical pain; it's just... I'm fine. Continue on."

Rhinox looked like he was about to protest, but from the determined set of Tigatron's jaw he knew it would be pointless to argue with the bot. Tigatron was cautious and careful, a mech who thought about the consequences of his actions. But he was still warrior. Not even damaged memories could erase the coding that made him such an effective fighter and scout. It ran through his processor, making him into the proud creature he was. Tigatron would not want something as potentially dangerous as a damaged processor hanging over his head. He may fear the outcome of the test, but he would never back down from the truth.

Tigatron tried to ignore the strange feeling that hummed in the back of his head. It was almost like he could hear people whispering, but he couldn't quite understand what they were saying. There were flashes too- a jungle, a grin, brown scaly flesh, a pit.

Tigatron felt himself reeling back as a memory tore through his processor, assalting his senses.

* * *

_Run, little Maximal! Run, run, run! Your soldiers will be dead before you get there!_

"Let's talk about Primus," the Predacon flier stated as he lounged back in his chair. Tigatron glanced at the mech warily. His optics had been damaged during that last round; everything was hazy and out of focus, and it made the light bounce off of the flier's gold armor in such a way that it looked like a halo. "Now you look like a religious sort of bot. Me? I'm a Primacronian. I believe that the Matrix and the Inferno are just metaphors for the factories that built us. But the Omniversalists, now there's an interesting bunch. They've got written in their _Covenant of Prime_ that the Inferno is some sort of hellish dimension that all Decepticons and Predacons are banished to after death, while Autobots and Maximals get to enjoy the paradise in the Matrix and commune with Primus himself. That's hardly fair, is it? I mean, this could be a perfectly good Predacon - good by Maximal standards, at least - always obeys the laws and says his prayers and never, ever goes on a murdering rampage because, well, you know how us Predacons are." The flier gave out a mocking laugh at that. "And instead of getting his reward he gets blasted down into the Pit simply because he happened to be sparked a Predacon. The whole thing is just so utterly ridiculous. Why would Primus even create the Decepticons if they're an inherently evil race? Seems rather pointless, if you ask me, and not a very good use of time management."

"Perhaps he wanted to show us what true evil looked like," Tigatron spat out.

Another mocking laugh and the flier was lazily pulling himself onto his pedes. He circled the Maximal from where he hung suspended from the ceiling. "If you wanted to see evil all you have to do is look in a mirror," the flier retorted. "We've all got darkness in our sparks. Isn't that right, Killer?"

"That's _not_ my name," Tigatron growled out. "It's -" He said something. He could feel his mouth move, the air rushing out, making sounds he couldn't hear. He wanted to say "Tigatron" so badly but he knew within his spark that wasn't the right answer. He wasn't always called Tigatron, that was a name he had chosen for himself. With a sudden jump Tigatron could remember everything that had happened before. Airazor, the Beast Wars, all of it. He looked down at his body, but what greeted him wasn't the familiar white fur and green metal. Instead, he was covered in thick dark purple fur. He still had a beast mode, but it wasn't that of a tiger. What was going on? Was this a lost memory?

The flier smiled. The same flier he had seen in the jungle. It wasn't cruel, not like how it was before, but affectionate and understanding. He reached down and picked up a thin metal rod, twirling it around his digits."No," he agreed. "It's not your name. Killer is what you are."

Suddenly, without warning, the flier rammed the rod through Tigatron's torso. Every circuit felt like it was on fire and he bit back against his cries.

* * *

"Thank Primus, he's coming out of it."

Tigatron's optics blearily flickered on and he saw the worried faces of Airazor, Optimus and Cheetor hovering over him. He pushed himself up off the exam table, embarrassed by all the attention. Optimus and Cheetor quickly backed away to give him room, but Airazor remained close to his side, her servo lightly brushing against his arm.

"The probe into your memory banks sent it into an overload," Rhinox stated from where he sat hunched over the report from the diagnostic. "It essentially locked you inside a virtual memory."

"I realized that what I was experiencing wasn't real," Tigatron admitted. "Or, at least, that it had occurred sometime in my past. The Predacon flier that I had seen was there."

"So, it was a hallucination?" Optimus asked. "Well, that's a relief. I'll contact Dinobot and Rattrap and let them know that's one less thing they'll have to worry about while on patrol."

"From the way you looked it must have been one Pit of a memory," Airazor commented. Although she sounded light and untroubled, Tigatron could hear the underlying question in her statement: _Are you alright?_ He had worried her.

"It was," Tigatron confessed. "Although I didn't understand it."

"What happened?" Cheetor asked, eager to hear the details, oblivious at his own insensitivity.

"We should let Rhinox continue with his work," Optimus said pointedly, giving Cheetor a meaningful look. Cheetor grinned sheepishly and began to follow his commander out, lingering in the doorway for Airazor to follow.

"Contact me after Rhinox releases you. I'll meet you by our favorite tree," Airazor promised.

"I'll be there."

Airazor shot him a smirk. "You bet your aft you will."

She reached down and squeezed his servo, leaning in for a kiss only to stop short when she saw Cheetor grinning at them. He gave the pair two thumbs-up and then proceeded to make kissing noises. Airazor rolled her optics and shared a fond smile with Tigatron. "Later," he said. "Without the little one."

Airazor nodded and walked off, playfully shoving Cheetor through the doorway.

As soon as the others were gone Rhinox shook his head and put the electronic pad away. "To be honest, I'm not exactly sure where the fault is. It's obvious that there is something wrong with your memory banks, but short of neutralizing the damaged parts completely, I'm not sure what else to do. This sort of work is too delicate for a CR chamber and I can't just go randomly poking about in your processor, trying to find the short."

"Well, what about neutralizing it then?" Tigatron demanded. "If you take out the damaged parts then it wouldn't be a problem."

Rhinox grimaced. "These are your memories. If there is some way to salvage them then I think we should try."

"What I experienced wasn't pleasant," Tigatron replied. "It might be better if I don't remember."

"That was one memory out of decades worth of experiences. You can't judge your whole life on one bad memory."

"This is my life," he insisted. "I feel connected to this planet and its creatures. There is nothing that Cybertron could offer that could replace that."

Rhinox shook his head again. "You don't know that."

Tigatron regarded the mech before him. "Does the _Axalon_ have any files on me?"

"Yes. Optimus was handed copies of all revelent data on his crewmembers before launching. It's not very specific, however. It just lists your qualifications and previous work experience. That sort of thing."

"What did it say about me?"

"Not much. There's not many details. It only states that you had been a scout in the Maximal army, that you had fought the Predacon rebellion on Synthesia and Corsicon and were invalided out. It also says that you were one of the first bots to be given an organic beast mode. Other Cybertronians had had alt modes inspired by organic creatures before- the Dinobots, for example. But they had always been made of metal, only vaguely recognizable as the creatures they were based on."

Tigatron nodded slowly as he processed the information. "The name Corsicon sounds familiar. I think I might have heard Rattrap make a passing reference to it."

Rhinox grimaced. "Both Rattrap and myself were there as well. Originally, we were both in the same company, before Rattrap was assigned to a special task force."

"What happened?"

"It was bad," Rhinox sighed. "A lot of mindless destruction, a lot of deaths, and all of it could have been avoided."

Tigatron gave him a wry smile. "I've had my fill of that. I've already lost Snowstalker, I don't want to remember any more deaths."

"I know after what you just saw that it seems bad, but you might be missing out on something wonderful. At least, just give it a few days to think it over. If you still want to go through with it then I'll remove your damaged memory banks."

Tigatron. "Alright. I'll give it a few days, but I won't change my mind."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note - Fun fact! Dinobot lacks any visible insignia (Maximal or otherwise). Go ahead and try to find one on him, you can't. And, yes, this little bit of trivia does pertain to this chapter.

Correction! I'd like to thank the reviewer Anonymous BW FG for pointing out that a small Maximal insignia can be seen on Dinobot's holster at least one time in the series. Because of that I have included a small change to the text. Thank you, Anonymous BW FG!

**Night of the Hunter**

_Chapter 4_

Tigatron hated the way the metal walls of the _Axalon_ seemed to press in on him, suffocating him. The false, recycled air clung thickly about him, clogging up his vents, and he longed for the cool, sweet-smelling breeze of the wilds. He laid back onto the berth and tried to slip into recharge, hoping that his rest would be free of the half-remembered dreams for one night. Tomorrow Rhinox would remove the damaged memory tracks. He just had to wait until then.

_"Dinobot, report."_

_"The underground volcano beneath the _Darksyde _has become active. The Predacons have fled nearby to wait out the danger. This is the perfect time to attack!"_

_"We need to have at least one of our bots here to guard the base and I can't risk Tigatron at the moment. That only puts five of us against seven of them. I'm sorry, but the odds just aren't in our favor, Dinobot."_

_"Then we attack the _Darksyde_! If we decimate their base it will leave them defenseless!"_

_"We would still have to contend with the automated defenses and, most likely, a number of booby traps."_

_"Then send the vermin. It would not be any great loss if he was to perish."_

_"Hey!"_

_"The point is, Primal, we might not have another chance. The best defense is an offense. Taking out their base could win the war!"_

_"… Alright. We'll be there soon. Hold position until then."_

His optics flickered on and for a moment Tigatron had no idea where he was. The heavy, cloying heat of the jungle surrounded him, making his vents work overtime to keep his internal systems cool. Alien vines and thick, broad-leafed ferns cloistered around him, blocking out the sky with their thick canopy. Looking down at his servos he could see purple fur covering the green metal of his structure like armor. For one brief moment he thought the fur should have been white, but it was gone like a dream.

"Sir!" Tigatron turned to look at the mech running towards him. He called out something - a name Tigatron thought - but it sounded garbled. The mech had some sort of vehicle alt mode and the bright yellow paint splashed across his structure made him a glaring target against the cool blues and purples and greens of the alien jungle. What made him stand out the most to Tigatron, however, was the panicked, fearful expression on his face. "The base is secure, all enemy Predacons have been captured or neutralized, but one. I don't know what happened, sir, he just slipped out of the parameter. If he rendezvous with the rebel Preds and they find out we've taken the base before the plan can go into effect..." he trailed off, waving his servos helplessly.

"He couldn't have gone far," Tigatron replied. He spoke without meaning to, like an actor in a play that was somehow able to recite a script he didn't know. "I'll track him and take him out. The rest of you will remain here and keep this area secure."

And then he was moving, the scene jumping and skipping, everything not quite lining up correctly. The soft pads of his beast mode landed silently with each step he took. The great extinct beast was well-suited to the pervasive jungle. The first thing the Predacons did when they first conquered Corscion all those solar cycles ago was to exterminate the native fauna. They had no use for organics, the only thing the cared for was the energon that lay beneath the soil, an energy source for their ever-expanding war machine. It enraged Tigatron to see such mindless destruction, but he did take pleasure in the fact that despite all their attempts, the plants that had made their home on this little rock would not be easily subdued. The Predacons would burn miles and miles of lush greenery, only for the trees and flowers to spring back up in a matter of hours, more hardy and multitudinous than ever. Not even the Predacons could kill this little bit of life.

The Maximal scout followed the winding path carelessly made by the Predacon rebel. The indention left behind in the dirt was light and slender; a flier, then. Tigatron felt the hair on his beast mode rise up at that. Why would a flier bother running when he could soar above the canopy? The only possible explanation was that he was too damaged. That would make hunting him easier.

Tigatron kept his face close to the ground and nearly lost his head when a bullet sailed past his soft muzzle and embedded itself into the dirt in front of him. Tigatron looked up and saw the grinning Predacon perched in a tree, lazily waving his blaster at him. For a few clicks the alien jungle faded away and Tigatron found himself staring up at oddly familiar trees, similar and yet completely different than the ones found on Corsicon. A strange sense of 'home' settled over him and he thought he could hear a femme's voice calling out to him. But just as quickly the vision was gone and Tigatron found himself facing off with the flier once more.

"Hey there, Killer," he mocked. "Bang. You're dead."

Tigatron had taken cover behind a tree, already transformed and ready to shoot. "The base has been taken," he called out. "You are miles away from the closest Predacon camp. Surrender now before any more fluid is shed!"

The Predacon laughed at that. "It's already too late for that! I hate to break this to you, but you've got a spy in your midst! We knew about your plan from the beginning: send in your best, secure the base. It's a strategic location, isn't it? Capturing it gives you the perfect way into our defenses. Oh, Killer, did you really think it was going to be that easy? We _let_ you take that base. It was the _poisoned pawn_. Well, now, listen to that. Can you hear it?"

He could hear the sounds of blasters and yelling floating towards them, muffled by the miles of thick foliage. Tigatron felt himself grow cold. It was his own regiment! Without a second thought he took off running in the direction of the battle, the Predacon's cruel laughter echoing in his audios the entire way."Run, little Maximal! Run, run, run! Your soldiers will be dead before you get there!"

"You idiot! You led them right to us!"

Tigatron focused his optics onto a blue-painted face and bearing razor-sharp dentals at him. There wasn't a Predacon insignia anywhere on the mech, but then again he couldn't find any obvious markings proving him to be a Maximal either. They had been betrayed. Tigatron could take no chances. He pointed his blaster at the large bot, who merely barked out a harsh, grating laugh at the sight. "I knew your short-lived pacifism wasn't real, but I hadn't expected this." He withdrew a sword, but before Tigatron could pull the trigger a Maximal jumped in front of him and aimed her wrist-mounted launchers at the imposing mech.

"Back off, Dinobot," she snapped. "Can't you tell he's having another flashback? He's not aware of his surroundings!"

"He was aware enough to give Rhinox the slip! He ruined-"

Suddenly Tigatron felt himself hurtling through the air as a wave of burning heat crashed into him. The Maximal femme landed against his side and above them he could hear a screechy voice call out, "The Maximals are fighting among themselves! This is perfect!"

Tigatron grabbed the femme's servo. "It was a trap. We need to reach our reinforcements and tell them what has happened," he hissed. With a sudden lurch he was on his pedes and running, his servo never letting go of her's.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note - We're getting close to the end now! I just want to say that out of all the Maximals originally onboard the _Axalon_, Tigatron oddly enough seems to be the one with the most military training. Despite not remembering Cybertron or really being involved with the other Maximals, he does treat Optimus the way a commanding officer should be treated and even goes so far as to salute him at least once (something that I don't recall any of the other Maximals doing). This leads me to believe that his life prior to "waking up" on Earth involved the military, which I always thought was interesting considering his pacifistic nature. Hopefully, this will help explain some of the Predacon flier's "observations" in this chapter.

**Night of the Hunter**

_Chapter 5_

Tigatron was pushed to his knees before the smirking Predacon flier, the last in the small line of Maximal survivors. His entire platoon had been slaughtered down almost to the very last mech. The Preds had shown no mercy, killing every Maximal save for three. What they intended to do with their captives, Tigatron hadn't a clue. He knew they wouldn't initiate an exchange of prisoners- the Predacons were often shockingly cavalier about the lives of their own comrades. If they wanted information - codes, troop movement, base intel - then they had chosen poorly. Tigatron held a high enough rank to be privy to such information, but the other two were young and from their terrified expressions it was obvious that they had not been in the army for long.

The flier walked up and down the line, grinning all the while, though his optics never left Tigatron's face. "I would just like to say: welcome to the Predacons!" He clasped his servos against his knees and bent down to look them in the optic. "Your stay will be... generally unpleasant." His voice sounded apologetic, but that unwavering smile told Tigatron that the Pred was looking forward to it. "My name is... Well, my designation is not important. You are to address me as Commander at all times. Now, if you're good little Maximals who do as you are told then you might find that it's not so bad here. You'll have all the energon you could want, no one will harm you, on that you have my word. But if you're naughty then things will go very, very badly for you. These fine soldiers here will escort you to your cells. Let's not make a fuss, now, we wouldn't want you to get hurt... yet, anyway. Oh, leave that one," the Commander practically purred as a pair of gruff Preds reached down to pull him up by the arms. "I'd like some time alone with my new friend, Killer."

The Preds shrugged their shoulders and dropped him, moving away to drag the other two Maximals out of the makeshift barrack. Tigatron was alone with the other mech. "You could at least get my name right," he bit out.

The flier smiled and shook his head. "No, I like it. It suits you."

"I'm no killer."

That made the Pred laugh. "No? What are you doing in the middle of a war, then?"

"That's different. You and your people leave us no choice. What we do, we do it in the defense of others."

"Now, see, I don't think that's completely true. I've seen you fight, the way you move, the way you _hunt_. You didn't get to be that good by sitting on your servos. You've killed. You may not like to think of it as such; you'll say that it was war, that it was him or you, that he was the enemy, but you know the truth. After all, they're dead, but you're still here, isn't that right?"

Tigatron felt a low boil of anger rising in the pit of his tank at that and, if he was honest, guilt. "You forced our hand. This rebellion of yours puts everyone in danger. If you want the killing to stop then put an end to this madness."

"Madness?" He looked almost surprised at the word, but he shot Tigatron a lazy grin anyway. "I wouldn't call it madness. But that's another debate entirely. Besides, who said I wanted the killing to stop?" He shrugged at Tigatron's horrified expression. "No, this is when bots like me shine. And bots like you."

"I am nothing like you," Tigatron spat out.

"Everyone is like me," he clarified. "Deep down inside, like some sort of wild, organic creature. We just have to find it."

"If that is what you think of people then I feel sorry for you."

Again, he laughed. "No, you don't. You don't feel sorry for me at all. But that's okay, because a Predacon should never feel sorry for someone else and I think, in time, you would make an _excellent _Predacon."

* * *

Tigatron felt his head reel from the blow. Almost immediately the Commander's servos were on his face, steadying him. He hated the way those same servos soothed the pain away after striking him and he hated the way it made him feel. Grateful. Relieved. He knew that it was an instinctual reaction, that not even he was above being "conditioned." He was trained for this sort of torture, he could overcome it, but in the dark recesses of his processor he wondered just how much he could endure.

"Hey, you're doing so well," the Commander praised, patting him on top of the helm like a sparkling. "We don't have to do this, you know. This can end at any time, but it all depends on _you_."

"I won't tell you anything."

The Predacon laughed at that. "You can keep your secrets. I don't want them."

Tigatron felt a rush of anger flood through him. Why in the Pit was this insane Pred putting him through this if not to get information on the Maximals? "What exactly do you want then?" He hissed.

The Commander cupped his chin so he could look him in the optics. "I want you to join us. I see the potential in you. You would be the fiercest Predacon ever known. These Maximals are holding you back."

The very thought of becoming a Predacon sent a wave of revulsion through him. There were no words, nothing that he could say that would adequately express the feelings of disgust coursing through him. So, he sucked in the fluid that was leaking out of the corner of his mouth and spat in the Predacon's face.

The Commander didn't seem to perturbed by this. He gave Tigatron a wry smile and calmly wiped the fluid off his optic. "I figured your response would be something to that effect," he mused. "Despite all your potential, you still think like a Maximal. You have to be _taught _to think like a Predacon. We have to desensitize you to the suffering of others, to place your needs and wants first, to use violence to achieve your goals. I will begin by offering you a choice: I will stop torturing you, but only if you allow someone else to take your place. It's up to you. You have to agree."

"Nothing you could do to me would ever make me agree to that," Tigatron stated, his hatred for the Predacon growing with every second. "Those bots are under my command and so long as I live I will do everything to protect them."

"You thought I was talking about the other Maximal prisoners?" The Commander asked, his voice dripping with false surprise. "No, no, no. _Baby steps_, Killer, _baby steps_. I told them I wouldn't hurt them and I'll keep that promise. No, the bot that I had in mind to replace you was one of my own Predacons." The Commander must have read the confusion in his face and grinned. "That's right. I stop torturing you, and there will be one less Predacon for you to worry about. Now that's an entirely different proposal, isn't it?"

It really was. He still wouldn't allow any bot - Maximal or Predacon - be harmed because of him, but the idea of a Predacon being tortured in his stead didn't fill him with the same knee-jerk revulsion the way that one of his own Maximals did. He shouldn't value one life over the other, but to him they were the enemy. What did it matter if a Predacon died by the hand of his own commanding officer or from a Maximal bullet on the battlefield? Was there any difference? Did doing one make him more guilty than doing the other? It was a harsh feeling when he realized that he couldn't bring himself to care as much about the hapless Predacon the Commander had chosen as his own Maximals.

He wouldn't allow it though, if for nothing else than to spite the Commander.

"I thought you were here to torture me," Tigatron mocked. "Not talk me to death."

The Predacon flier sighed and shook his head ruefully. "Okay, then, Killer, if that's how you want it. But trust me, it's going to get a lot worse here on out."

* * *

Red lights blinked in front of his vision as strings of warnings ran through his processor. He tried to listen to what his onboard computer was saying, but he found it difficult to concentrate. He was propped up against a wall, somewhere; he could feel the rust scrapping the paint off his back. Where was he? What had happened to his chains?

"You're looking a little worse for the wear, Killer."

Tigatron focused his optics on the Commander. He hadn't even known he'd entered the room. There was a time when no bot could have sneaked up Tigatron. His commanding officers had all proclaimed that he had the sixth sense of an organic predator. Now it took every ounce of energy to keep from slipping into stasis lock.

The Commander knelt beside him and patted his cheek. "It's going to be okay. I've prepped a CR tank for you. I'll take you to it, but first there's something you need to do. Come on, get up." He grabbed Tigatron by the arm and hauled him to his pedes. The Maximal grunted in pain, but managed to stay upright when the Commander let go. The Predacon flier began to lead Tigatron out of the makeshift barrack and out into the bright sunlight of wild Corsicon.

There were two bots bound and kneeling side-by-side in a circle of Predacon soldiers. Tigatron could tell at once that one of them was a Maximal, one of his own soldiers. The other was a Predacon. The Maximal was looking down at the ground, fear and anger warring against each other on his features. The Predacon was begging, crying out to any comrade who would listen to him. "It was a mistake! You know that I would never desert- I'm as loyal as anyone here! Please, please, I'm sorry, I won't try to run away again, I swear."

The Commander clapped his back as they came to a stop in front of the pair. "You're the most hardheaded Maximal I've ever met. Most mechs would have broken their programming by now. Luckily, I've got one more trick in my bag." He gestured to the two figures kneeling in front of them. "One of these two has to die and you're the lucky bot who gets to decide which."

"You said you wouldn't hurt them," Tigatron growled.

The Commander held up a digit. "Ah, ah, I said I wouldn't hurt them _if _they didn't cause any trouble. You're little friends were caught trying to escape last night. And the Predacon- well, I suppose you're not interested in his crimes, are you?"

"I won't do it."

"Sorry, that option is not available. You either choose right here and now, or I'll kill the Maximal and then bring out the other. If you refuse again... Well, I'm not really sure what I'll do since I'll be out of Maximals." He laughed. "But I don't think it'll come to that, do you?"

"No," he answered quietly.

"Didn't think so. So, which will it be?"

The Predacon had stopped begging. He obviously expected no mercy from a Maximal. After all, why would a Maximal choose a Predacon over his own kind? Tigatron looked at him and wondered why he had tried to desert the army. Was it simple fear, or did he actually morally object to the rebellion?

It would be so easy to choose him.

"The Predacon," Tigatron stated. The poor bot let out a harsh sob, but Tigatron didn't look at him. He kept his optics trained on his Maximal comrade, silently willing him to comprehend what Tigatron was trying to tell him through looks and gestures. It was a relief when he saw the light appear behind the young mech's optics. An understanding passed between the two of them and he saw the Maximal tense in preparation.

"Good boy," the Commander praised and withdrew his blaster.

Tigatron was on him in a second, forcing the smaller bot's arms up and sending the shot wild. Simultaneously, the young Maximal prisoner threw himself to the side, knocking into the Predacon soldiers and sending them sprawling, the Predacon deserter doing the same only a click later when he realized what was happening.

Tigatron wrenched the blaster away and grabbed hold of the Maximal as the Predacon deserter took off, seizing his chance. Tigatron fired off a few shots, sending the Predacons running for cover as they prepped their own weapons. The two ran into the jungle, ducking into the foliage. "What about-" The young mech started to protest before Tigatron slapped a servo over his mouth.

"We'll come back for him," he whispered. "The Commander knows that he's his only bargaining chip; he won't harm him. We can't get to him now. Go east. The ground is hard, they won't be able to follow your tracks. Try not to break any foliage; do nothing that will lead them to you. When night falls, double back and head north. There's a Maximal base in that direction and you should be able to reach them on your link."

"What about you?" The bot demanded as soon as Tigatron had removed his servo.

"I'll lead them away from your position."

"You can barely stand!"

"You have your orders," Tigatron snapped. He doubted he would get out of this alive, but he knew that the young Maximal in front of him would be no match against the Predacon platoon. They had already wiped out better soldiers than this bot. If he died giving this young sparkling a chance, then so be it.

The young Maximal gave him one last searching glance before taking off. Tigatron watched him go before hobbling off in the opposite direction. He knew the soft paws of his beast mode would leave no tracks, that he could disappear into the jungle in the way that only a creature native to the planet could. But that would defeat his purpose. He wanted to lead the Preds right to him.

It was barely more than a couple of cycles when he heard the Commander call out, his voice echoing through the jungle. "Killer...! Time to come out! Ollie ollie oxen free!"

Tigatron took off running then, prepping his blaster as he went. He could hear the thundering of pedes beating against the ground, crushing the greenery as the Predacons chased him. Tigatron looked behind his shoulder, lifting the blaster to fire a shot. Before he could squeeze the trigger he felt a searing pain hit him in his side. He collapsed against the dirt floor. He blearily looked up at those strangely familiar alien trees. "That's not what happened," he murmured. "I escaped."

Airazor's face suddenly filled his vision. "I had to," she said apologetically. "You thought I was a Predacon. You were about to shoot me."

"So you shot me first?"

"Pretty much."

"At least I think I'm back to my senses for now," Tigatron mused.

"I'd rather not have to shoot you every time you have flashback. You're too cute to damage." She helped him sit up. "Do you remember what happened?"

"A little," he sighed, rubbing his aching side. "Did I really wander blindly onto a battlefield?"

Airazor chuckled a little. "I'm afraid so. Last I heard, Dinobot was still throwing a tantrum. Nobody gothurt though. Do you want to tell me what you saw?"

"No," he answered quickly and honestly. "I really don't."

She gave him an understanding smile. "Okay."

He pulled himself onto his pedes and together they slowly made their way back to the base.


	6. Epilogue

Author's Note - This is it, the last chapter. I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you all had just as much fun reading it.

**Night of the Hunter**

_Epilogue_

Tigatron prowled through the forest, his feet light and silent. It would take a better tracker than most to find and follow his trail. Then again, Airazor actually was a better tracker than most. She kept up with him easily, flying high above his head. Despite the fact that she could not see him through the thick canopy, she managed to keep pace, turning as he turned, following every step of the way.

Tigatron led her out of the forest, where the thick jungle was suddenly cut off by a steep cliff. Here the foliage was more sparse, just a few scraggly plants clinging stubbornly to the fine grain sand. Airazor came to land beside him, transforming into her robot mode while Tigatron remained an animal. He gestured down at the valley below where a small tribe of ape-like creatures were scrounging for food.

"So these are the humans," Airazor mused as she watched them in amazement. "Look! They've already started to create tools."

She pointed to one of the creatures - an old female by the looks of it - who was using a long blade of grass to scoop up ants from a mound. Tigatron watched her face as she stood there, mesmerized by the sight. He felt a rush of affection for her then. She was just in love with this planet as he was.

"It's almost hard to believe that this is really Earth," she commented. "I hope we haven't done too much damage to the timeline."

"I worry about that as well," Tigatron replied."This war with the Predacons... it seems like the ones who always suffer the most are the organics, not us, not the Cybertronians. We have all this destructive power... I never understood why. Did we modify ourselves to be like this? Outfitting ourselves into war machines? Or were we already like this to begin with?"

"You don't really believe Primus built us to fight, do you?" She teased, nudging him gently.

He eyed her curiously. "Do you really believe in Primus?"

"I don't know, but if not Him then who else could have made us?" She gave him a hard, searching look then, as though trying to follow the dark path his thoughts had turned onto. "What is this about, Tigatron?"

"Do you remember when I was having those flashbacks?" He asked. After everything that had happened - Optimus dying, the quantum surge, the destruction of the second moon - it seemed like it had happened a lifetime ago. Rhinox had successfully removed the damaged memory tracks, but those brief glimpses he had seen would forever be with him.

"Of course."

"I don't know if you knew this, but I had been a Peacekeeper, before joining the _Axalon_. The term is a bit of an oxymoron; we were involved with fighting the Predacons. There never really was any 'peace' to 'keep'. There had been a Predacon revolt and I had been captured. The commander of the prison, a Predacon, told me that there is violence within all of us. Even me. This war has made me see just what exactly we are capable of, the depths we will go to in order to win... and I can't help but think he was right."

Airazor shrugged and looked back out into the valley below. "That's true, but it's the same for them." She nodded her head towards the proto-humans. "Organics will do whatever it takes to survive. So will we."

"I know. I know that I have to fight. Snowstalker's death taught me that. Still I can't help but think there's a better way."

Airazor sat down next to him, her pedes dangling off the ledge as she leaned up against him, her shoulder rubbing against his fur. "You let me know when you figure it out," she said. "Until then I'll be right here."

**Fin**


End file.
